Faded
by Lily and Shadow
Summary: Roy tries to help a dangerously depressed Ed, but finds himself battling a few of his own demons. RoyxEd, slightly OOC Prequal to Memories. Rewriting. HIATUS.
1. Sleep

**A/N:** Hola. Lily here. This is the first chapter of the revised version of Faded. It'll probably take me a while to get the rest of the story up, partially because I don't have much patience for revisions and partially because I have some rather huge gaps to fill in. Anywho, that's about it. On with the chapter.

Thank you to Shortest-Purple, Fluffy's fangirls, Sennie, radcat38, FMA-SN-fan, ToriTheInvader, I love Malfoy as a ferret, maria, Hikari Mizu, Verscilith, MinokaintheShadows, mylifehaslostdirection, Songfic Misstress, broken hearted dark angel, Pippin the hobbit-elf, Emosoldier16, Lunadia-aloneforevermore, Sailorkitten, and DaiMiniko for reviewing this story the first time around.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

It was after midnight, but Ed couldn't sleep. Instead he lay awake, staring at the walls in the faint moonlight that managed to creep through the curtains. He was alone in his dormitory. Al was in Resembool for the week visiting Winry and Aunt Pinako. The silence was so thick it was almost deafening. Ed hated the silence. It allowed him to think.

_What am I doing? Why am I still here? It's been four years. Four years since that disaster and nothing's changed. I haven't fixed anything. All I've done is make it worse, dragging Al all over Ametris and putting him in danger. Why am I still inflicting myself on the world? I've done enough damage as it is. Besides, they don't need me. They'd be better off without me. They all would._

With unblinking golden eyes Ed stared at the nondescript white wall. White like the flash of light that had engulfed his brother as he watched, helpless to stop it. White like the bandages that had been wrapped over the leg the gate had taken and the arm he had given for Al. Nothing made sense anymore and nothing seemed to help with the pain.

He gave a shallow sigh and headed for the bathroom, hoping that a hot shower would help clear his clouded mind. He had been thinking too much lately and too many of those thoughts centered on death. Peeling his shirt off as he walked, he caught a glimpse of his bare chest in the small mirror hung over the sink. He hated what he saw. Everything about him was repulsive. The scars around his automail were still an angry shade of pink and he doubted they would ever fade. His ribs were beginning to show, too, and he knew he hadn't been taking care of himself but he really didn't care. Then there were the other scars. Some of them had come from various missions, but those weren't the ones that caught his eye. There were words in strange text littering his torso, words only he and one other person could read. It was a language he and Al had invented as children, one they still used sometimes. Ed reflected grimly that it suited his purpose. As long as Al didn't see the scars no one would even guess that the odd markings were letters. But it was getting harder and harder to keep Al from figuring him out. They had always been close and Al could read him like a book.

Grasping the edge of the sink with his mismatched hands, Ed leaned forward to inspect his now gaunt face in the mirror. His cheeks were hollow and his eyes were sunken. His eyes. They looked so different. At one time, long ago, they had burned a bright gold like the sun on a summer afternoon. But that had been when he still had hope. Now they were empty.

_Empty like me_, he thought. Suddenly he found himself craving that feeling again. He wanted the cool metal against his skin, the sting of the blade, the hot blood in streaks over his fingers. It was too tempting and with Al gone there was nothing to stop him from giving in. With a steady hand he opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a small knife. Usually he would use his automail blade, but not for what he had in mind.

He pressed the blade hard against his flesh over the bottom of his ribcage and drew it downward. Again and again he repeated this, pulling the blade in different directions at different angles until he was left with two characters. Repentance.

_Equivalent exchange. I deserve to suffer for what I've done to the people I love. I don't deserve this life I still have, but as long as I am here I should continue to pay for what I've done._

Still it wasn't enough. He lowered the blade a bit until it rested against his side and drew three deep lines that made their way over the curve of his waist. That was better. Bleed it out. All the memories and all the hurt. Just bleed it out. With a quiet grin he placed the knife back where it had come from. He could feel himself beginning to shake. He was losing too much blood; he knew he would black out soon, but he didn't care. He just stayed put, sinking to the floor as his mind strayed to the fresh, crimson letters on his chest. Repentance. Ed didn't believe in God, only science, alchemy. There were no deities, only facts and equations. Still, repentance seemed oddly appropriate.

He could feel himself starting to slip, but he didn't mind. The darkness was warm and inviting and he wasn't the least bit afraid. It didn't take long after that for him to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	2. Lying

**A/N:** I'm baaaack!!! Hola. Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? It's been the better part of a year and a half since I started this story. I almost got rid of it when I went through and purged a bunch of stuff. Actually, I haven't done much writing on this site at all lately, something I think people who read my work in the Death Note fandom are probably pissed about since I left four or five stories at rather critical points about four months ago and haven't touched them since. But anyway, I've picked this back up because, frankly, things haven't been going well lately. I've been rather ill, so when I went through all of my stories on here this just kind of jumped out at me. Hopefully it'll sound better and be more coherent this time around. Except for this chapter which is rather choppy. You can definately tell where I stopped writing five months ago and picked back up yesterday. But I'll shut up now and let you read.

A big thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far and has encouraged me not to scrap this. Thank you also to the people who have stuck with reading it even though I've been completely obnoxious by adding chapters in the middle of the story and then taking the whole thing down for about a gazillion months.

**Warning:** Themes of anorexia and self-injury. Nothing too explicit in this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I _still_ don't own FMA. I'll get right on that when my plan to take over the earth progresses a little further, I mean....

* * *

The Colonel sat at his desk, staring at the clock. Fullmetal was late. Again. This was the second time in a week and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. Never were there reasons given, either. All Roy knew was that Ed had a report due an hour ago and he'd better have a good reason for being late.

* * *

Back in his dorm Ed woke up on the cold tile floor to find his left side caked with blood. At first it startled him, but slowly the events of the previous night came back to him. The argument with Al, the tension between them when he dropped his brother off at the train station, then this. He wiped the dried blood from his cheek with the back of his flesh hand. As he stood he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The sunken eyes and deadened expression hardly fazed him. Then he caught sight of the clock on the counter. He was late. But he couldn't go in looking like this. After debating with himself for a moment longer, he decided it wouldn't hurt to be a little later. He showered quickly and dressed his wounds before heading to work.

* * *

When Ed finally wandered into Roy's office he looked lost. That was the first thing the older alchemist noticed; the second was that Ed wouldn't look him in the eye. In fact, the blonde didn't acknowledge him at all, just stood in the doorway like a lost child.

"Fullmetal?" Roy called to him.

Ed didn't so much as blink.

"Edward?"

Still no response.

"Ed?"

That got his attention. "Hmm?"

"You're late," the dark-eyed man pointed out. "Again. Is there a reason for that?"

Ed just shook his head. "Sorry. I… I have that report here somewhere."

Roy watched the boy dig through pockets until he pulled out an envelope. It was one of the odd things Ed did and while it had annoyed the colonel at first he had found that he minded less and less with each one.

Without another word Ed stepped forward to place the envelope on the desk and then turned to leave.

"Fullmetal," the colonel said sharply. "I believe there is something we need to discuss. Sit."

Ed sat, eyes never leaving his scuffed boots. That alone told Roy something was wrong. Ed hadn't argued. Ed never simply obeyed. Now slightly worried, Roy continued speaking.

"You were late again," he said. "That's the second time this week. Fifth time in the last two weeks. Something needs to be done about that. Is there a reason for your habitual tardiness? Or do you simply not deem this worthy of your time."

Ed shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry, sir. I haven't been well. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

"If you're sick then you should go to the infirmary. Have the medics check you out," Roy said.

At this Ed shook his head almost violently and the colonel thought he saw something resembling panic flash across the boy's face. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"I'm alright," the boy said far too softly for the statement to be truthful.

"If that's so then I expect you to be on time," Roy said. "If you continue to show up late I will have to insist that you either seek medical attention or give me an honest answer about what's been going on. Your call."

The blonde merely nodded and left without a sound. Colonel Mustang watched him go, noting the way he hunched his shoulders and bowed his head and the way his feet barely left the floor. There was something very wrong and Roy swore he would find out what it was.

* * *

Ed stared at the floor as though it would give him answers. He had left immediately after talking to the colonel and come back here. Golden eyes flickered to the curtained windows as a soft sigh escaped cracked lips. He couldn't tell Colonel Mustang what was going on. Nor could he seek any kind of help. He would be discharged as a risk to himself and the rest of his unit. And then where would he go? The military was all he knew.

He felt as though he was caught in a downward spiral with no way out. He let his gaze drop again and focused on his metal hand. He watched the light reflecting off of the automail as he curled his fingers and flexed his wrist. How did it come to this? Why had things happened that way? He knew he would never have the answers he needed.

In the silence the sound of his stomach growling seemed overwhelming. His body was protesting his neglect and abuse of it. Cramps, fatigue, shortness of breath, they all showed how it didn't appreciate his means of coping with life. He stood and waited a moment, steadying himself as the room spun, then headed for the door. Rather than go to the mess hall and do something about the nagging headache telling him to eat, he headed in the direction of the library, hoping to distract himself from everything else by losing himself in his research.


	3. Haunted

**A/N:**Hola. So I hate that this is so choppy. But it just ends up that way. I don't know why. Anyway, I meant to get this up sooner, but things have been crazy. But I'm on break this week, so hopefully I'll get more written. Enjoy.

Thank you to Maggie for reviewing!

**Warning:**Just the standard for this story. And I was listening to Koe from Fatal Frame, one of the most depressing songs _ever_, while I wrote this, so it's extra depressing.

**Disclaimer:** That "take over the world" thing isn't going so well...

* * *

That afternoon Roy called Ed back to his office, seemingly only to stare at him for several excruciatingly long moments before sending him on his way. It had made Ed nervous the way the older man had looked at him. The colonel knew he was hiding something, Ed was sure of it. And Riza had been no help, seeming not to notice the pleading glances he threw her way.

* * *

"What do you think?" Roy asked his lieutenant once Fullmetal had closed the door.

"He's hiding something," the woman commented. "You know, Al's out of town this week. Maybe they fought. You know how he gets when he thinks his brother's angry with him."

Roy nodded, steepling his fingers and staring at the door. "Perhaps."

* * *

Ed did not sleep well that night. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Every so often a clenched hand would come up to scrub at his eyes, but aside from that he was still. Images flashed through his mind, blinding him more than the darkness of the room ever could. Images of his brother reaching for him, those last moments of their childhood. Images of their mother, too still and cold, skin the

colour of death, no breath from her lips and no light in her eyes, just lying there. He could see again the first things he had seen upon opening his eyes after Al carried him to the Rockbells', after he put Al in his armor, after they tried to bring back their mother. He saw again Mustang's face that first time he spoke to him, heard his words and felt again the emotions that had raced through him. Fear, anger, uncertainty, and finally determination. Finally his mind came to the missions he and Al had gone on. As he flashed through them things began to come back. Things he didn't want to remember. And it was about the time that he came to some of the most painful of those memories that he saw again Al's face as he reached for his brother, both of them helpless to stop what was happening.

And then Ed was on his feet, his stomach threatening to rid itself of the meager supper he had eaten.

* * *

On the other side of Central Roy sat before the fire in his hearth. His eyes were dim and unfocused as he stared into the fire. One hand, now bare, clutched a bottle while he held the other in front of his face. He didn't really focus on his fingers as he snapped, only on the fire he had set burning hours before. It was comforting somehow, the fire. That was one of two places he found comfort. The other was the bottle in his hand.

He raised his empty hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Whatever was going on, it wasn't his problem and he should just stay out of. He had justified his interest by the fact that it was interfering with the work done by one of his subordinates, but in the haze of the alcohol motivations were the only thing that became sharper. That wasn't why. He couldn't lie to himself at the moment. He knew why.

Why did the damn kid have to haunt him the way he did? Why couldn't the boy just leave him alone? He needed Hughes. Maes always knew what to do with these situations. But things were not as they had been when he and Maes had been in the academy together. The other man was married now and a father. He had his own life now that didn't include Roy.

Things were not the way they had been. Maes had moved on. They were still friends, still close, just the way he had promised, but things were different. It had been difficult then, but that was nothing to now.

Roy raised the bottle to his lips and swallowed as much as possible. Why were things so difficult? None of this even made sense. At least Maes had been able to help him rationalize these things away before, but now… From the look in the other man's eyes every time he saw Roy around Ed Maes knew. And he wasn't being forthcoming with any advice. All he did was smile reassuringly as though to tell the colonel it would be alright. But it wouldn't be alright. Any idiot could see that. Maes was a hopeless romantic, Roy knew that. But even he should be able to see the problems here. The first of those problems was the military. Actually, that was several problems. The first was that both Roy and Ed could be fired as they were both men. The second was that Roy was Ed's superior, which would make such things inappropriate even if Ed were a woman. Then there was the matter of Ed's age. And beyond all of that now there seemed to be something going on with Ed.

To be honest, Roy would have been worried if this had been any of his subordinates. As much as he seemed to be heartless he actually cared deeply for his squad, and at some level they all knew that. All of them, it seemed, except for Ed. But the fact that this was Ed made it more difficult for several reasons. First there was his age. Someone so young should not be carrying so much weight. Then there were Roy's feelings for the boy.

He lifted the bottle again and tipped it back, draining what was left. He couldn't help hating himself for all of this. Some days he wondered if it would have been better if Maes hadn't stopped him all those years ago. None of this would have happened. Perhaps he could still make them go away. But he knew in the back of his mind he could not. He didn't have it in him now.

The fire reflected brightly in his empty black eyes, making the dampness that gathered there sparkle and shine against the darkness as the bottle slipped from his fingers to hit the floor with a dull thud.

* * *

Ed rose once more to his feet, legs trembling and bile burning the back of his throat. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and moved to lean against the sink, watching his reflection in the mirror. Dead eyes stared back at him from a too pale, too thin face. He hated this weak, ugly thing he had become, but what could he do? There had been days he had considered ways to make it stop, but he couldn't. He couldn't do that to Al. Even if Al would on the whole be better off without him. But for now he still provided for his brother. He needed to make sure that Al would be alright on his own. Then he could do what needed to be done. Then he could rest.

But for now he had to stay. Even if it was only for a little longer, he had to stay. He had to stay. Slowly he repeated that to himself as he raised his hands and clapped, bringing the blade he formed up to meet the bare skin of his flesh arm. Just a little longer he had to stay. And then when all was done, then he could rest. Then he could rest.


	4. Lunch

**A/N: **Hola. Well, here's chapter four. It's getting a little less choppy. I'm trying to fix what I had before, but some of it I just look at and go "What was I thinking?" So here's the revised version.

Thank you to DaiMiniko, Cookie Panda, and ToriTheInvader for reviewing!

**Warning: **Just the standard for this story.

**Disclaimer:** When I finally do own FMA I'll be sure to let you know.

* * *

The seconds ticked by as each man went through his life with distraction lingering somewhere in the back of his mind. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, and hours to days and neither of them mentioned what had been gnawing at the edges of their thoughts. At least, not until the fourth morning when Ed stumbled into Mustang's office an hour late and seeming almost drunk. In fact, Roy would have thought the boy was drunk from watching the way he moved if he didn't know a few things about Fullmetal, the first of which was that he had never touched alcohol in his life because he felt it would leave him vulnerable.

"Fullmetal," Mustang said as Ed leaned heavily on the back of the couch. His face was pale and he seemed pained. "You're late again. Care to explain why?"

Ed shook his head slowly and tightened his grip on the upholstery, as though that small gesture had made him dizzy.

"That's not acceptable, Fullmetal," Mustang growled. He knew he sounded cruel, but his intentions were good. "You will explain to me why you are late."

Ed stared at the floor for a moment, long golden hair blocking dead golden eyes from view. "I've been sick. It won't happen again, sir."

"That's what you said the last time," Roy informed him. "Go down to the infirmary."

Ed just shook his head and steeled himself for whatever reaction that might provoke. Roy watched this with concern, noting the way the boy held himself with such resolve even though he was shaking. Something was very, very wrong. After a long moment of silence Roy spoke again.

"Fine. Take these." He held out a stack of papers. "Have them back by lunch."

Ed's head shot up and he blinked owlishly at the colonel. For a few seconds he hesitated until Roy waved the papers at him and shot him an annoyed look. But he knew it was foolish to question his luck and more foolish still to question Colonel Mustang. Without further hesitation he took the papers and hurried from the room before Mustang could change his mind.

* * *

That afternoon Ed was back, just as the colonel had instructed. Roy studied him over folded hands as he entered the room. He seemed hesitant, as though he wasn't quite sure of his footing. But the colonel said nothing until the alchemist had reached his desk held out the papers. Roy took hold of them but did not take them from the boy, instead looking up at him and using the connection formed by the papers to keep him from moving. He knew how all of his subordinates worked and stubborn as Fullmetal might be something as simple as that could stop him in his tracks.

"Come with me," he said, with no flourishes of an invitation and none of the harshness of a command.

"We're off for lunch," Ed pointed out.

Roy nodded. "Exactly. Come with me."

The colonel studied Ed's expression as he processed the request. He didn't like what he saw. Panic, anger, worry. Nothing good. Finally he pulled the papers from between the boy's metal fingers and set them on his desk before standing and moving to the door. Ed, however, stayed where he stood.

"Well, come on," Roy instructed.

"If it's all the same to you…" Ed began lamely.

Roy's eyes narrowed. "That's an order, Fullmetal."

The level of panic in Ed's expression rose and he bowed his head, coming to stand next to Roy at the door. He didn't question his colonel until they had walked halfway across town and come to a small diner. It was only then that he even dared to make eye contact with the older man. When he did, there was a question there. One that Roy did not feel inclined to answer until they were inside where Ed would be less likely to run.

Roy opened the door for the boy and ushered him in and back to the back corner where he always sat.

"Sit," he ordered, and Ed sat still giving him a look of terrified confusion. "I suppose you want to know why we're here." He didn't wait for a response. "This is about some things I've noticed lately."

"Sir," Ed began, but Roy cut him off by holding up a hand. Ed noticed immediately that he had removed his gloves. It almost seemed as though he was trying to tell Ed without saying it that he was not threatening him.

"Roy," he said. "This isn't about work."

Ed stared at him for a moment as though trying to work out the trap in his words. Roy just sighed. There had been none. He still didn't know why Fullmetal thought he hated him.

"I'll make this simple," Roy said. "What's going on?"

Ed blinked. "Nothing si– Mustang."

"Don't lie," Roy said. "Something has been wrong with you lately."

"Why does it matter to you?" Ed snapped.

The question stung Roy more than he cared to let on. But Ed was just being defensive, he told himself. He didn't want to confront whatever this was and that was precisely what Roy was trying to make him do.

"Because you are my subordinate and I care about my squad," Roy said flatly.

Ed snorted. _He's being defensive_, Roy repeated to himself. _He's hurt and you're cornering him. He's just defending himself._

"Your brother went back to Resembool recently," Roy pressed. "Did the two of you fight?"

"No," Ed replied, his tone telling the colonel he thought this was absurd. "He was supposed to go visit Winry and aunt Pinako. That's been scheduled for months. We're on good terms."

Roy nodded. "What is it then? Did something happen on one of your missions?"

The Flame alchemist knew from experience that sometimes missions went awry. Sometimes things happened. Sometimes those things left scars. If you were lucky those scars were the kind you could see. If you weren't so lucky, well, sometimes those scars could kill you if no one noticed them. Roy had seen that happen. It had very nearly happened to him. If it hadn't been for Maes his battle scars would have killed him.

Ed shook his head, keeping his eyes focused on the table. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Then what?" Roy asked.

Something about the question terrified Ed. The colonel's tone had been far too gentle. And when he looked up the colonel was watching him with genuine concern. Ed had to fight hard to resist the urge to bolt.

"Nothing," he said.

"Ed –" Mustang began. He got no further than that, though because Ed was up and running. The colonel just managed to catch hold of the boy's coat and from there grab his arm.

For what felt like forever but couldn't have been more than a few seconds, Roy struggled to keep his grip on the teen as the boy struggled to get away. But as much as he hated how Ed's view of him would probably be altered by the confrontation, there was something that bothered him more. When had Ed gotten so thin? When did he become so weak?

Finally Roy wrestled the boy back into his seat. He slipped his gloves back on to let the young alchemist know just how serious he was before he resumed his questioning. "Elric, stop lying. Something is wrong and I want to know what it is. You won't accept my asking as a concerned friend, so I expect you to answer me as a superior giving an order."

"There is nothing wrong with me," Ed hissed. Under the table, out of the colonel's sight, his automail hand toyed with the bandages he had wrapped over the injuries he had caused last night.

Roy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. "Fine. When we get back to the base I'm taking you to the infirmary. Before you protest, I know they'll find something. Something you'd rather not have them find. Otherwise you wouldn't care so much. They already know about your automail and we've created a story for that, so that isn't what you're worried over. There's something else going on.  
"Elric, as much as I know you don't believe me, I care for my squad. I've arranged for you to be checked over by a medic who's an old friend of mine. If you're sick and you're afraid that you'll be discharged for it, we'll figure something out. That's all I can do. Something is obviously wrong. I'm concerned. Just grant me the chance to see that you'll be alright."

Ed hung his head. He had to come up with something and he had to do it now. He couldn't have Mustang finding out about him. Finally, almost too quietly to hear, he answered. "We did fight."

"What was that?" Roy asked.

"Al and I," Ed repeated. "We've been fighting a lot lately."

Roy nodded. That would certainly explain why Ed had been so upset lately. He and Al were closer than most brothers could ever hope to be. There was so much in their pasts that tied them together that for them to be fighting would hurt both of them. Especially Ed, who already thought he had failed his brother completely.

"Thank you, Ed," Roy said sincerely. "At least now we have somewhere to work from. But there's nothing we can do at the moment. So let's get you something to eat. You're too thin."

At this Ed shook his head violently. This time when he fled Roy made no attempt to stop him. Instead he just listened to the boy's footfalls until he heard the door slam. After that he let his head rest on the table in a gesture of total surrender until the waitress who had been lurking cautiously nearby gathered the courage to make her way over.


	5. Thoughts

**A/N:** Hola. Here's the next chapter. I know I'm being slow. And now I sleep for a while. I've gotten about five hours of sleep this weekend. Somewhere around there. But that's ok, because con was awesome. Onward!

Thank you to mrawgil09 for reviewing!

**Warning:** Nothing really for this chapter. Drug use, but nothing overly explicit.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own FMA. Though I hope that I will eventually be able to say that I own an Envy costume. Yup.

* * *

A fire burned in the hearth and all around the room candles made little pinpoints of light in the gloom. Anyone who didn't know the man might think something special was going on. However, anyone who knew him well would be able to see he was upset. Fire had long been a source of comfort for the colonel and now as he sat in his living room at a quarter past one with his thoughts racing and his head aching he fell back on it once more.

He wondered if perhaps he might have handled the situation at lunch that afternoon a bit better. Part of him had wanted to stop Ed from running. Part of him had wanted to force Ed to go to the infirmary, even if he had to restrain him and carry him down there. It was haunting him. Something was seriously wrong with the boy. And while Roy would have been extremely concerned if this were any of his other subordinates, this wasn't anyone else. This was Ed. And as a result, here he sat again, bottle in hand, questioning everything.

There was no logic in any of this. None at all, and he hated it. Why was he this way? That was one of his foremost sources of self-loathing this particular evening. Certainly he hid it well. There were many women who could attest to that. Maes had always said he tried a little too hard. But the reality was that he didn't want to face the truth. He didn't want to admit, even to himself, what he was. He wanted desperately to tell himself that his relationship with Maes had been because he was young and confused. After all, Maes had grown out of it, so why was it that he couldn't seem to do the same?

Maes kept trying to tell him that wasn't true. The man insisted he hadn't grown out of anything, he had simply decided that he wanted to settle down and start a family. Roy didn't believe him. And then there was Ed. Ed already hated him, and would hate him more if he knew. Of course, the only person Roy had even seen Ed show any sort of love for was his brother, and that was a family thing. That fact led him to hope sometimes, but he knew there was no point in it. There was no way.

And now there seemed to be something wrong with the blonde. Something Roy couldn't fix. Hell, he couldn't even figure out what it was. What good was he, then, as a commander or a friend? With a sigh he hung his head and closed his eyes, not wanting to deal with reality at the moment.

* * *

Ed stared up at the ceiling through the darkness. He held his automail hand over his head, not really watching the gleam from the moonlight as it reflected off of the metal. It was merely a point of dull light in the darkness that drew his eyes in because he couldn't really see anything else. He wasn't looking at the automail, not really. What he was really doing was feeling it. Not in the sense that he could feel his flesh arm, it was more a sense of its outline and an acknowledgement of its weight. It was heavy, something he found fitting. It was a reminder of things that weighed heavily on him.

_I deserve this,_ he thought, the ideas half formed and muddled in his tired mind. _I deserve to suffer this way. For what I did to Al. For all of it._

It seemed as though every day the automail got harder to carry. As his body deteriorated, the limbs seemed heavier and more awkward. It was getting difficult to carry them. He would never admit that, though.

He sighed, the soft sound seemingly amplified by the silence. Al would be back in three days' time. He wondered briefly if his brother would still be angry with him. Furthermore, where was he going to find the energy to keep up this façade? Already it was wearing him down just having to act while at work. Acting around Al had always been more difficult. Add to that the fact that he could feel himself fading and he nearly lost all hope. But it would be alright. After all, he only needed to last a little longer. There were some things he needed to find out. There were some things he needed to make sure were in order.

Because he had failed again. Flesh fingers curled into a fist in a subconscious gesture of frustration and his nails bit into his palms nearly hard enough to draw blood. He couldn't stay long enough to take care of his brother. He couldn't be there for Al until he was certain the boy didn't need him anymore.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? When would Al no longer need him? As long as Al was in the armor that was impossible to know. But Ed doubted that he would last long enough to restore his brother. Yet another short coming. This was his fault and he knew it. If it weren't for him his brother would still be in his rightful body, rather than trapped in the hollow prison of his armor.

_I deserve all of it,_ Ed told himself angrily. _All of the suffering I've caused. All of it was needless. What good am I when that's all I can do?_

From the rush of thoughts about Al and Winry and Pinako, Roy suddenly came to mind. The conversation he had had with the man at lunch that day came back to him unbidden. How he had shouted, accused, run. And the concern in the man's eyes. He couldn't fathom why Mustang would care about him, but now it seemed he had hurt the colonel as well.

There was a sharp intake of breath and then the sound of mismatched feet hitting the floor. Ed walked through the darkness to the bathroom and flicked on the light, wincing as he was temporarily blinded. Going straight to the medicine cabinet above the sink, he tugged the door open and paused, fingers hovering over his knife. After a moment of indecision, however, they moved to grasp a too familiar bottle. Quickly he took off the cap and dumped two of the little, white pills into his hand, swallowing them dry before he put the bottle back. Then he went back to his bed and lay down to wait for the drugs to kick in and allow him the escape of a dreamless sleep.


	6. Call

**A/N:** Hola. I'm back. I tend to come back to this story only when I'm not feeling well, I've noticed. I really don't have too much to say. Sorry for taking so long to get this out. It has been a little over a month, after all.

Thank you to Cookie Panda and Madame Poppy for reviewing.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Back at home on the other side of Central, Roy was finally beginning to submit to the effects of alcohol. The more clouded his thinking became, the better the idea of calling Ed seemed. His intention, no matter how drunk he was, was just to check on the boy. Ed had been acting so far out of character today and something about it didn't sit right with the colonel.

After another moment of consideration, Roy dove for the phone and dialed the number. With baited breath he listened to it ring once, twice, thrice, before a small voice came on the line.

"Al?" Ed asked, sounding somewhere between awed and fearful.

"Edward," Roy sighed in relief. He was alright,

There was a slight before pause before the moment of recognition set in. Suddenly furious, Ed shouted into the phone, "Bastard! Why the hell are you calling me?"

"I was worried about you," Roy said honestly. The man actually flinched at the boy's response.

"Bullshit," Edward declared in a tone that was somewhere between a hiss and a shout. Either way, one got out of the way when Ed sounded like that, because the other alternative was usually a blade through your throat.

There was a click on Roy's end of the line as Ed slammed the phone down onto the receiver almost hard enough to break it. He did have some restraint and he realized that his automail hand could easily crush the device. Still, he was furious that the colonel had had the gaul to call him in the middle of the night. Somewhere in his subconscious he knew that the reason he was so angry was that he had hoped it was Al calling. When the colonel had answered, he had smashed Ed's hopes that much more.

Automail fingers tightened around flesh seemingly without his notice until the joint in the metal drew blood and the hand left a print on the arm.

* * *

The next morning Ed burst into Roy's office with an air of angry determination about him. He would have answers and he would have them now. He stopped in his tracks, however, when he spotted Mustang. The man didn't even seem to notice there was anyone else in the room. His dark eyes were bloodshot and a look of pain shone in them. He seemed as though he had not slept. Furthermore, there was something about his demeanor that contrasted sharply with his otherwise proper, albeit weary, appearance.

But Ed would not be put off that easily. He approached the desk with caution, his automail leg bothering him as he tried to move as silently as possible. He had never seen his commander like this before and had no idea what to expect from him.

"Colonel," he said finally, taking a defensive stance incase Mustang felt threatened enough to attack him.

But Roy simply turned to stare at him with those haunted eyes. It took a few seconds for recognition to set in. "Yes, Fullmetal?"

Ed was thrown off by the lack of an insult, but pressed on anyway. "You called me last night. I want to know why."

"I wanted to make sure you were alright," the dark haired man replied honestly.

For a moment Ed considered arguing with him, but with the state the man was in that seemed a bad idea. Finally he settled for another question. "Are you alright?"

"Of course," Roy nodded drowsily and said.

"Hawkeye said there was something you wanted to see me about this morning?" Ed prompted.

But Roy shook his head at this. "No. If that's all, then you may go."

So Ed went without question. There was something seriously wrong here. He paused at Hawkeye's desk and as soon as he pulled the door shut he whispered to her, "Is there something wrong with the colonel today?"

She frowned, honey coloured eyes clouded with worry. "Don't mind that. You don't look well yourself. Go home and have Al make you some soup or something. I'll send your work to you."

Ed nodded, silently wondering if the woman had forgotten his brother was out of town. He also wondered if his brother would ever be returning. As he wandered through the halls that all consuming numbness that had become his mind's way of defending him enveloped his thoughts. Al was gone. Al was gone. Al was gone. The thought repeated itself over and over in his head like a scratched record. But it didn't sink in, couldn't through that protective veil his subconscious had thrown up to defend his fragile psyche.

That veil, however, couldn't seem to persist forever. It began to fade as he made his way through the halls so that by the time he made it back to his dorm that thought was burning itself into his heart so deeply he thought it would kill him where he stood. He went straight to the cabinet and retrieved his blades. The only thing that helped quell that fire was the thought of at least a small bit of retribution. Ed had always been one for revenge, even if it was against himself.

* * *

Back at the offices, Hawkeye was pulling the door closed behind her as quietly as possible so that she didn't startle her superior. Mustang looked terrible. The distant look in his eyes frightened her, bringing back images of the man as he struggled with flashbacks after the war.

"Sir?" she said finally.

Roy dragged his gaze over to where she stood and studied her for a moment. He hadn't slept, she could tell that immediately, and she knew he had been drinking. That would account for his acting like this. She sighed. This again.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" he said. At least he was sober at this point, though he probably felt as if he was going to die.

"Perhaps you should go home, sir," she suggested.

"Where's Edward?" the colonel asked, ignoring her suggestion.

"I sent him home, sir," she said.

Roy nodded and went back to his paperwork. That he was actually working without complaint or protest worried Riza as well. What had happened that he was so desperate to distract himself? She remembered what he had been like immediately after the war. He had been granted a promotion and with it had come all of the paperwork he had since learned to hate. At the time, though, he had thrown himself into his work with such determination it had been frightening. He had tried to bury himself in it, to drown out all of the horrors he had witnessed by keeping himself too busy to remember. And yet he had had moments where Hawkeye had feared for his safety. Not from any outside source, not even from intentional harm he might inflict upon himself, but from the unintentional damage he might do. These cases she had always turned over to Hughes. As much as she cared for the colonel and as much as it pained her, she recognized that Hughes was closer to him and understood him far better than she ever would. But his willingness to work unsettled her and she resolved to do something about it.

"I'll send Hughes up shortly, sir," she said as she turned to leave. This garnered no reply from her commanding officer, but she had not expected one. Her concern over Roy disallowed her to the chance to realize just what she had done to Edward.


	7. Hurt

**A/N:** Hola. So some things you should know about this chapter. The first thing you should know is that I'm kind of an idiot. The first time through this story, I left out a huge chunk in the middle. So then, as some of you may remember, I went back and was trying to fill in that gaping hole while still continuing the story at the end. Not wise. Anyway, this is the first of the "missing chapters" to be rewritten - meaning that for the purposes of this draft it's not really missing, those will come later. But all the "missing chapters" when I replaced them were very short, very choppy, and very poorly written. So I tried to flesh this out a bit, but mostly just ended up making it a little smoother and I would like to think the writing improved a bit. One more thing about this scene. This story (as with all my FMA pieces) is based on the first anime. However, I found inspiration for this in the manga. Page 58 of volume 2 was exactly what I was trying to capture. I was thinking about this scene, read that, and went "That's it!" Onward.

Thank you to Repeating October and Cookie Panda for reviewing!

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Ed sat quietly in the darkened room. The bright sunlight had been too much to bear, so he had pulled the curtains shut before settling on the foot of his bed. In his hands he held the small blade that had become his means of coping with the ever-growing burden of guilt and grief that had been threatening to bury him for the past eight years. It wasn't healthy, he knew that. More than that, it was something he should do something about before it began to affect his work or, worse yet, his brother. The problem was that he didn't care anymore.

As his steady gaze bored into the opposite wall what seemed to be a twitch twisted his stoic expression into one of horrible anguish. Then another twitch, and another flash of emotion, and then his stony mask broken and the pain of his grief became clearly evident. He curled his hands into fists, the blade held in his real hand cutting deep into his flesh until blood ran in rivulets down to drip from the back of his hand.

"Al," he cried, his voice cracking into a choked sob. "I'm sorry Al. I'm so sorry. It hurts Al."

Ed pulled his knees up to his chest as unwanted tears streaked his cheeks. Trying to muffle another sob, he buried his face in his knees. "It hurts. Al. I'm so sorry, brother. It hurts so much."

Unclenching his fist and taking a deep breath, he steadied the already bloodied blade against his exposed shoulder. The tears he had tried so hard to fight finally stopped as he drew the shining bit of metal into an intricate design.

"I really am sorry, brother," he told the silence in a cracked whisper as he examined the result of his work. Three characters outlined in crimson spelled _Sinner _on his pale flesh.


	8. Uneasy

**A/N: **Hola. Well, it's been almost a month since I updated this. I have no idea when we'll get to the point I was at before. Bleh. I've been working on too many things at once again, so not only am I not getting anything done, I'm a tad bit frazzled as well. Bleh. Another "missing chapter". This one's a halfway decent length. Also, I have a list on my profile of other places about the web where you visit me. That's part of what's taken so much time recently. Onward!

Thank you to DaiMiniko, Cookie Panda, and XxForest-DragonxX for reviewing!

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Roy stared down at his desk, not really seeing. He was more than just tired. The exhaustion that had crept into his bones had spread like cancer, infecting his mind and soul and stealing his will to keep up his charade of normalcy. Even when Hawkeye had come in earlier to threaten bodily harm if he didn't finish his paperwork, he hadn't so much as blinked. The worried lieutenant had crept quietly from the room, eyes never leaving her superior. And she wasn't the only one in the squad to be affected by Roy's reversion back to his post-war state. The entire squad seemed edgy as a result of their commander's odd behavior.

And to make matters worse there was the near constant absence of their youngest comrade. He had not been sent out on any missions lately, not since Roy had noticed the rather disturbing changes in him, but he was gone just the same. He reported to the office each morning and then vanished to the library for the remainder of the day. They all knew it was futile to look for him, though, because the only person who ever managed to find Ed once he decided to hide in the library was Al.

Not that this was much help to any of them. In the two weeks since Al had returned from his visit to Resembool there had been a marked change in the interaction between the brothers. While Al had clearly forgiven his brother of whatever the elder had done to make him angry, Ed continued to act guarded around his sibling. Even Al, unwaveringly cheerful in almost any situation, seemed shaken by the drastic difference in his brother. Add to that that the person he would normally ask for advice was in the middle of his own personal crisis and Al was just as bad off as any of the rest of them.

Except perhaps Ed. Al wasn't too far from where Ed was now, but the older blonde was still worse off. But that was probably only because Al didn't have a body. Edward was literally fading away before their eyes. He had lost weight. This was obvious in how sunken his cheeks were and how his coat seemed to hang on his thin frame. He had begun to seem as though he was having trouble with his automail. The weight of it seemed almost too much for him in this state. But his eyes were far more unsettling than anything else about his appearance. His eyes were vacant and haunted.

The door opened quietly, but Roy didn't look up. He paid the other man no attention as he sat down in a chair on the opposite side of the large, wooden desk. He knew who it was and why he was there, but he couldn't face him. Not right now. Not like this.

"Roy," Maes Hughes said in a tone that was both gentle and firm. Over the years he had learned that this was what Roy required when he slipped into one of these states.

Unwillingly Roy glanced up from the document he had been staring at for the better part of fifteen minutes. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and there were dark rings beneath them. Just the small gesture of raising his gaze made him feel infinitely more tired. Whether this was because of his current state of apathy or if it was because this confirmed that Maes was not in the mood to let him get away with failing to provide answers he wasn't sure. Still he forced himself to focus on the bespectacled man across from him.

"What's wrong, Roy?" Hughes asked.

Roy let his gaze fall back to the desk. "Same old things."

Hughes frowned. Roy sounded tired. He looked terrible. "The war?"

"Something like that," Roy mumbled in response.

There was a moment of silence before Hughes spoke again. "This is because of Ed, isn't it?"

He was rather surprised when Roy put forth the effort to meet his gaze before refuting his statement. "This has nothing to do with Fullmetal,"

"Mhm," Hughes nodded knowingly. The man knew better than to pursue the matter at the moment. "Roy, you should come over for dinner tonight. Elishia's been asking when she'll get to see her uncle Roy. Besides, I know Gracia wouldn't mind."

Roy turned the words over in his mind for a moment, raised his gaze once more, then shook his head. "I have things to do. I'm sorry."

At this Hughes' expression tightened to one of protective control. "I'll pick you up at six. Don't make me look for you."

With that he got up and left the room without giving Roy time to protest. Certainly Gracia wouldn't mind once he had explained and Elishia really would be glad to see the Lieutenant Colonel. Besides which, one more night that Roy spent with his family would be one less night the man would spend alone and drinking.

Roy didn't bother to watch Maes leave. He knew his friend wouldn't let him get out of dinner that night. And on some level he was grateful. Maes only did these things because he cared. Honestly he cared more than he should. But then, they had always been close. With a sigh he pushed his paperwork aside and resigned himself to the prospect of having a three year old on his lap the whole evening.

* * *

"Brother, what's wrong?" Al asked for the millionth time that afternoon. Ed was sitting across from him at the library table reading from one of the many book scattered around them.

"Hm?" Ed started. He looked up to see Al watching him, his brother's gaze like a lead weight on his shoulders. Even though the armor was unyielding, the years had taught him to read his brother's emotions in every detail of his appearance. Al was concerned and that did not bode well. He shook his head and glanced back down at the document before him. "It's nothing."

"Maybe you should eat something," Al suggested. "I could cook something for you."

Again Ed shook his head. "Thanks, but I think I'm gonna be here for a while yet. You can go back if you want, but I want to finish this."

Al sighed. He wanted to know what was wrong, but Ed wouldn't tell him. His brother seemed to be getting weaker and weaker as the days went by. Al could tell his automail was bothering him. And the way he would sit and just stare at nothing was almost disturbing. Ed was the kind of person who always wanted to be up and moving. He always had to be doing something. That had gotten him into trouble fairly often when they were little. Al had never known his brother to be able to tolerate doing nothing. So the lethargy elder had displayed recently didn't sit right with the younger at all.

Normally he would talk to the Lieutenant Colonel about something like this, but Mustang was having his own issues at the moment. Hawkeye said he had been like this just after the Isbalan War. She wasn't sure what had set him off this time, but that she was sure he would come around and just to look out for his brother and leave Roy to her. Al was trying to do that, but Ed wasn't one who would allow anyone to look out for him. Always the hero. He always had to be protecting everyone else, but never let anyone protect him. Al didn't understand it. Maybe it was a big brother thing.

"No," Al said. "I'll stay. We'll get this done faster if we both work on it."


End file.
